


Find Me, Arthur

by LittleOne550 (transient), orphan_account



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arthur Knows, BAMF Hunith, BAMF Merlin, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Magic Revealed, Original Character(s), Well more like he suspected it, Wingfic, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2017-12-10 09:58:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/784771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transient/pseuds/LittleOne550, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin is still Emrys...just with wings. When the newly crowned King Arthur takes him unknowingly on a journey looking for a young man of whom there are rumours that say he is a very powerful sorcerer (even the Druids think so and the Druids are <em>never</em> wrong) but he was also born with the wings of an angel, Arthur will find out more than he bargained for. Like the fact that he has a kink for extremely powerful sorcerers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Special Announcement

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I'm completely new at this whole writing fics thing, but I really wanted to at least give it a try.
> 
> Update 6 May 2016: Wow this is such an old fic. I've started writing other fics for different fandoms but I've never been able to finish because I lose interest, so I'm very glad that I put this out here when I did. I've gone through the fic, fixed errors and added a lot of content, which I hope makes things smoother.

Arthur sits across the campfire from a sprawled out Merlin. Neither of them are talking while they wait for the rabbit to cook thoroughly on the spit. Merlin has started to get a little bit fidgety, but you would be too if the new King of Camelot had just up and decided, not even 30 minutes after getting back from his own coronation ceremony, that you and him would be going on "just a little hunting trip. Don't be such a _girl_ Merlin." Without anyone else accompanying them, not even Leon. 

Arthur clears his throat and Merlin's head snaps up from previously glaring at his pocket flint for not sparking. He lifts his eyebrows, silently asking if everything is all right. 

"I have something to confess..." Arthur starts, licking his lips at the pause, "we aren't really going on a hunting trip." Arthur scowls at Merlin's hand gesture that urges him to continue speaking when he pauses. 

"We are actually going back to your village, in Ealdor." 

Merlin eyes him speculatively, and then opens his mouth as if he were going to comment, question, or complain (all three are things Arthur knows that would be of little help) but before he can speak he is silenced by Arthur lifting a hand. "It's the the closest village to where some rumors have led me. For the past...almost 12 years, I have heard whisper after whisper of a child who was born very close to here with very powerful magic; but not only that, he has wings- like those of an angel." 

Merlin's eyes flicker to the ground and stay there and his body visibly tenses. He blanches and he could swear he feels the blood draining from his face, as if it was dragged down by a magnet. Arthur doesn't notice his manservant going pale, though, because of the light golden hue playing across his features from the fire in between the two of them.

"By the Gods, Merlin, it has been pure torture, listening to the now-hushed stories. When I was seventeen I finally cracked and asked my father if he would let me ride to Ealdor so that I could see if the rumors and tales had any truth to them at all." He huffs a quick sigh, shakes his head almost imperceptibly, and resumes. "Of course, my father all but disowned me just for thinking of that. And on top of that he embarrassed me in front of his entire court! It was humiliating. For a while after that I could practically _feel_ gazes from nearly anyone close enough to the training grounds boring holes into the back of my head whenever I was out in the courtyard sparring with my knights. They hated how sympathetic I was, _am_ to magic. But I can't help how much it fascinates me." 

While Arthur continued to drone on and on, about how a Prince should have the respect of soon-to-be-his citizens and not let his people even start to doubt whether or not he will make a good King, Merlin's thoughts and questions are tumbling all around inside of his head. 

_How in the world did people find out about my wings, let alone my magic? What will Arthur do when he finds out that the person he has been searching for isn't anywhere to be found, and actually hasn't lived here in nearly 6 years, for that matter? Should I just finally tell Arthur that I was the child born with wings and raw magic? **No**. No, I can't risk our friendship with the chance of Arthur hating me for my powers. Or even killing me._

Merlin decides that he will just have to try and convince Arthur that going to Ealdor in search of someone, who, for all Arthur knew, could be completely made up, is nonsense.


	2. Blushing Kings

Merlin looks up and his eyes immediately lock with Arthur's. He has a puzzled expression, but Merlin can make out another look hidden on his face. Affection. It makes him squirm where he is stretched out on the cool earth. He pulls his long legs up against his chest, wraps his arms around his shins, and tucks his chin over his knees. 

Merlin sighs, resigned to his fate, and begins trying to persuade Arthur to return back to Camelot. 

"And what exactly do you plan to do if you actually succeed in locating him? Which you must know is highly unlikely. Also, I feel I should mention that the whole time I lived in Ealdor I never _once_  heard a story about a baby who was born with wings and magic. But that's not important. So, Arthur, a plan. Do you have one?

Arthur stays still and Merlin can almost _hear_  his train of thought.

 _Maybe Merlin is right,_ Arthur thinks. He may have acted a little on impulse, but really what was he supposed to do? His father denying him leave only served to make him more curious and even more rebellious. The rumors, when not at the forefront of Arthur's mind, had always lingered in his subconscious. He was constantly aware of the tales, for some reason, and liked to imagine what this magical boy looked like. He often found himself fantasizing about what where to happen if he had a chance encounter with this creature, of course he usually had himself in hand during these times and he could never tell Merlin that. "Of course I have a plan Merlin, don't be ridiculous," Arthur scoffed.

"And what exactly is this brilliant plan of yours?"

"I do not have to answer to you Merlin. Do I have to remind you which one of us is the King and which one is the manservant?"

"No...that is not necessary, sire, I just don't think this is a very good idea. I mean, what will you do when- _if_  you find out he is not there," Merlin asked as he bent over the fire and took the cooked rabbit off the spit. He went in his pack and pulled out two flimsy brass plates, courtesy of the cook, and both of their water skins.

"What are you talking about Merlin, of course he will be there. Where else do you think he would have to go."

Merlin sighed heavily and answered, "I don't know, sire. You are probably right."

"Of course I am. Now, we will reach Ealdor by nightfall tomorrow. Do you think that Hunith will allow for us to stay with her?"

 _Not when you tell her who you are looking for in Ealdor,_  Merlin thought. "Of course she will. She is deeply grateful that you help saved our village from Kanen all those years ago. We owe you a few nights keep at least."

Arthur doesn't respond, he just nods and hums noncommittally. He starts to eat, but Merlin occasionally catches him flicking his eyes back down from where they were staring at the raven-haired boy. Merlin has to hold back a smug smirk. It wasn't until a few years ago that Merlin realised the crush Arthur was harbouring for his manservant. He loves when Arthur gets all bashful, obviously from thinking about Merlin in indecent scenarios, and absolutely adores teasing him. Because what is more satisfying than making the King of Camelot blush? Nothing. And it's even better that Arthur never notices that Merlin is doing it purposefully.

 _Now that Arthur is King, there is nothing holding me back from expressing my feelings for him,_  Merlin thinks. _And if I can seduce him into a stupor, I can convince him that this trip is ridiculous and that we could be doing much more fun things in his soft bed back in the castle. I just need to get him to decide to go back to the citadel, but make him think that he came up with the idea on his own._

Merlin sighs. This is going to be a long night.


	3. Shirtless Manservants

Merlin sighs, untucks his legs, and makes a show of stretching out his whole body. He ends up with his legs splayed out, supporting himself on his elbows, so he jumps up quickly from the ground and lightly scratches his lower stomach as he walks past Arthur. He mentally awards himself the first point when he catches sight of how the kings eyes linger a little too long on the sliver of skin that is exposed when Merlin's threadbare tunic rises slightly.

He kneels down at the bedrolls laid out and mutters a small encantation that makes the fire burn hotter but not noticibly brighter. It isn't cold out, even if it is late in the evening, but his spell isn't to make the surrounding area any more comfortable; it's to do the exact opposite actually. 

"Oi, it's stiffling out here," Merlin says as he turns around to look at Arthur while tugging on the collar of his tunic. 

"Don't you dare complain, Merlin. Look at all this armour I have to wear,"Arthur says while gesturing to himself. "You have it easy."

"Well I am already sweating so-" he kicks off his boots and shucks off his tunic. He watches as Arthur's eyes darken, turns around and picks up his clothes, throwing them onto his makeshift bed. When he looks back he's nearly giddy with joy when he sees how Arthur is gnawing on his bottom lip trying to keep his gaze from wandering back to the pale expanse of flesh that is his shirtless manservant.

"I'm almost positive that there is a stream nearby. I saw clusters of arnica growing in the clearing where you caught the rabbits and they usually lead to a water source. I think a little rinse off is well deserved by now since I haven't had one in two days. You must need one too, we haven't taken any breaks except to sleep and eat the whole trip. Care to join me, sire?" Merlin can see Arthur flinch unintentionally, and has to bite his lip to hold back a chuckle.

This is going to be too easy.


	4. Wanking Warlocks

Or maybe not.

"No, I-I think I will just lay down and have a wash once we make it to Ealdor," Arthur says, sinking down onto his bedroll with practiced grace.

Merlin can feel his face crumple as his plan withers away. Quickly, though, he maintains his composure. Surely something will come up that will help him. He has that sort of luck, it seems. "Of course, sire. Whatever you wish, sire." He knows that it puts Arthur on the edge calling him by his formal title, but in doing so he hopes that it will seem suspicious. Maybe just suspicious enough that the king will think something is amiss. As he is walking away, Merlin can't help but notice that he doesn't hear the normal sounds of one getting ready to sleep; like the unfolding of a blanket or the crinkling of leaves underneath the bedroll when someone lays down on it. He makes his way down to the stream loud enough so that if someone were to be following him by any chance they wouldn't be losing their trace on him anytime soon. Smiling to himself, a plan already forming in his mind. 

* * *

Just as Merlin thought, Arthur follows the dark-haired boy, making sure to keep a good length between them. 

Merlin is just as clumsy as always, Arthur observes, making plenty of noise as he traipses down to the stream. Arthur thought he could tell that something was bothering his manservant since after he informed him where they were actually travelling to and why, and the boy using his formal title just stood to reinforce that thought. He decided to follow Merlin to see if something was the matter. He knew that Merlin talked to himself a lot, usually just incoherent mutterings, but maybe if he listened carefully enough he could make out some of what he is saying. 

When Arthur finally reaches the stream, he sees Merlin naked and thigh-deep in the rushing water. Right now, Merlin is unfolding a small block of soap that Gauis probably gave him out of his new supply he received from the Crusaders returning from the Orient. When Merlin bends down to get the soap wet, Arthur's hand flies straight to his mouth to muffle a sharp gasp.  _Jesus, how did I never notice how perfect Merlin's arse is? That man is going to be the death of me,_  a sinister voice in the back of Arthur's head says. Shaking away all traces of those thoughts, Arthur returns back to scene playing out in front of him.

Merlin has moved on to washing his body; he starts with his arms and moves up to his shoulders and neck area. He leans over and swishes the bubbly block around in the water again, then brings his hand back up and rubs it all over his chest and down his stomach. Merlin lathers his hand generously in soap and returns to rubbing down his whole torso. While watching the hands move up and down his lithe body, Arthur notices a small line of black hair starting under his bellybutton and trailng down to his erect cock. The sight makes Arthur dizzy with lust and he realizes that Merlin must be enjoying this as much as Arthur is.

Merlin takes his soapy hand and runs his fingers through the black hair around the base of his cock and starts to pull on the shaft. Arthur thinks he can hear more muttering but it's only brief, and then Merlin is throwing his head back and making a noise that no human should be able to produce. It only makes Arthur even more aroused. He can see all the soapy bubbles that are covering Merlin's cock and are running down his thighs and shins, only to be washed away by the running water.

Merlin stops teasing himself and continues to wash his whole body. Once he has wiped every inch of skin and rinsed the soap off, Merlin walks to the edge of the grass, picks up the thin parchment that is laying on top of his pile of clothes and wraps the block of tallow up in the paper. He takes his small bundle of clothing, steps out of the stream water onto the damp grass and walks over to a tall tree stump. He plops his clothes down on the ground next to him and sits himself on the smooth tree stump.

Arthur notices that Merlin's flagged erection has come back with a vengeance when Merlin wraps one of his hands around it, and languidly strokes it. He tips his head back slightly and Arthur is mesmerised by the long line of Merlin's neck. His eye follow Merlin's Adam's apple when it bobs up and down as he swallows repeatedly. Merlin's eyelids flutter closed, the lashes resting against prominent cheekbones.

Arthur forces himself to tear his gaze away from Merlin. Even with the buldge in his smalls directing most of his brain function at the moment, Arthur still knows that he is intruding on what should be a private moment for Merlin.

When Arthur finally has his back turned, ready to start walking back to their makeshift camp, a ragged moan forces itself out of Merlin's throat. Arthur takes a few moments to steel himself and when he can finally move without chafing his hardened cock, he traipses past the two large trees on the edge of the clearing in the direction of their small set-up.

The only thing on his mind at the moment are his bedroll and the mental note he made himself earlier about one of the straps on his saddle that needs tightening. He is definintely not thinking about what his manservant would look like spread underneath him, moaning lewdly into the night while Arthur thrusts into him. Definintely not thinking about that.


	5. Big Plans

As Arthur wakes up in the morning he realises two things. One, Merlin is already awake. He has everything packed into their bags and all the things they can't carry by themselves loaded onto the horses. And two, Merlin is sitting right in front of him, staring down at Arthur with a crazed expression on his face. Arthur startles and sits up in his bedroll. "What's happened? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Merlin looks around nervously, eyes flicking up, down and around. "Well, Arthur, I just remembered that  we - that I left some things back in Camelot. Perhaps we should turn around and get them, they would be essential if something were to happen to you on the trip. And lest we not forget that you were just crowned King, so maybe it would be best if we just forgot about this whole trip. It is rather silly."

"Merlin, what is silly is that you are just now remembering some supplies that you left behind. And as you pointed out, I am now the King. And as the King, my word is the law. And I say: We are going to Ealdor. We will find this mythical boy, and we will convice him to come back to Camelot. Provided I mention that I will be revoking the laws that ban magic from being used. I have watched far too many innocent people, or at least people who meant no harm practicing it, die."

"But you can't really thi- Wait. What? You're going to repeal the laws against magic users?" Arthur nodded as if this was blatantly obvious. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?! I thought I was your most trusted advisor! This is a big deal Arthur, you must know what you are getting yourself into."

"I am well aware of the things that will happen once I announce my decision."

"Well- but- Arthur, you do realise that by taking away the laws, that you will be welcoming the Old Religion back into Camelot with open arms. Not that I am in support of what your father did, quite the opposite in fact, but by him purging the kingdom of the Old Religion and its magic he made himself lifetime foes; ones that you have now inherited. You cannot just expect that they will forget about 20 years Uther spent murdering our- _their_ people and forcing them into hiding. There will still be some people who hold grudges and will not forgive you that easily, ones who will doubtless want revenge. You must organise meetings between their people and yours. You can start by inviting the Druids to come to Camelot and help write peace treaties. While I think that what you are doing is noble and just, and completely long over-due, you must think these things through, Arthur." In the span of Merlin's rant, Arthur's expression morphed many times. From outrage to confusion to understanding to embarrassment, but now he is simply looking up at Merlin with a vague look of awe. 

"Sometimes, Merlin, I think you really are the clumsiest, stupidest person I have ever known. Then you turn around and say something that- well, something that is so unbelievably wise beyond your years."

Merlin lets out an audible sigh, the speaking really knocked the wind out of him, and plops himself down on top of the rotting log that is opposite Arthur's bedroll. 

"Well, let's get going. I don't want to show up in Ealdor too late. I'm sure that would just be more trouble for your mother, getting out things for us in the dark."

"I really don't think we should be-"

"Not another word, Merlin. We are going." 


	6. Hunith's Well Concealed Fury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is quite a short chapter, but it helps to set up the next one.

Almost 11 hours after Arthur and Merlin set out on horseback, they finally make it to Ealdor. They are greeted with warm bows and sweet curtsies from all of the townsfolk they pass. Apparently, Hunith could hear all of the noise that their arrival was making, and came out of the small cottage. She looked around curiously for a few moments and caught sight of the two beloved guests and ran up to Merlin quickly. Arthur stepped back a few feet to let them have their moment' but gasped as Hunith grabbed his wrist and pulled him into a hug. Having grown up without a mother, or really anyone that would show any such affection towards him, Arthur tries to make a few pats on her back as un-awkward as possible. Her slight frown when she pulls back hints that he didn't do a very good job of that. Arthur turns to Merlin and smiles apologetically, who gives him a great beaming smile in return. Hey, at least he tried.

She smiles widely, and asks, "What brings you back to Ealdor, King Arthur?"

Before he can get a word in, Merlin interrupts him. "Arthur has brought me captive to help him search for a...person. He says that he has heard rumors of a boy being born with magical wings. The stories have led him here, or at least near this area." Arthur notices that halfway through Merlin's short speech, Hunith's grin has been replaced with a look of utter shock. Arthur can't blame her though, he was astounded when he first heard those stories as well.

"W-What...em, why are you looking for him, sire? If I may ask."

"I would like to bring him back to Camelot with me." When Hunith grimaces as if in pain, Arthur reiterates, "I don't plan on killing him. I just...well I guess I want him by my side. I have always felt a strong connection to the stories of the young man and I want him at my side, where he is safe."

Hunith smiles sadly, and says softly, "I am sure he has always been right at your side, watching over you." Louder, she continues, "But I am afraid you have come to the wrong place. I don't recall any news of a child being born with any abnormalities, let alone something as magnificent as wings. We had a pair of twins that were born about 8 years ago and they are studying under a tutor, but that is the strangest thing that has happened recently."

Just as Arthur opens his mouth to speak, Hunith starts up again, "I don't mean to be rude your majesty but if you really are that insistent you may ask some other village folk. But not before we celebrate your arrival tonight. You can start your questioning in the morning, get a fresh start."

Arthur can tell she won't take no for an answer so he, if somewhat reluctantly, agrees.


	7. Sleepless Mothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realised that I don't mention Gwen at all, so let's just say that the whole 'rip in the veil of time and space' thing never happened and Lance never left, and they are happily married. And Arthur isn't the least bit angry because he is gay. There. That works.

Arthur wakes up with Merlin's head on his shoulder. Which, while it is likely the most comforting feeling he has ever had, he knows that he can't let it continue. Not if he really wants his winged warlock next to him, in court. So, Arthur wakes up his manservant by pushing him and tells him, quite rudely he realises, to "Get off, me Merlin," faking the astounded tone in his voice.

Merlin is still groggy and quite angered to be woken from a pleasant dream where he was drooling onto Arthur's chest. He looks up from the ground at Arthur, where he is taking note of a damp patch on his night shift, and looking down exasperatedly at Merlin, and sort of fond. The latter emotion makes Merlin flush slightly, until he gathers himself and gets up off the floor.

Merlin tells Arthur to sit down and the table with a vague hand gesture, but one that Arthur still understands. As he crouches down to seat himself on the low, wooden bench, Hunith comes flying through the rickety door. She has rings around her eyes and just looks exhausted. Arthur, ever the gentleman, offers her his seat, which she takes without comment or thanks.

"Are you quite all right? You look like you haven't slept at all," Arthur says. He looks over to Merlin and notices that the boy is eyeing his mother warily, as if is it common for her to go without sleep once in a while.

"Yes, my lord. I am fine. I just... went for an early morning stroll before I made the two of you breakfast. Come now. What would you like? I have porridge, but I know you do not quite fancy that." Arthur hears Merlin snort softly from where he is stoking a fire to life in the pit at the side of the house. Arthur turns to glare at him, then looks back at Hunith.

"Whatever is the easiest to make for you, I will eat glady.

***

After eating his lumpy porridge, Arthur takes Merlin along and together they walk into the middle of the village. Arthur stands upon a small wooden box and whistles to get everyone who is bustling around's attention. "People of Ealdor, first I would like to thank you for your hospitality and your generous feasting last night. You may wonder what my reasoning is for coming to visit you. I, and by that I mean myself and not the whole of Camelot, have come in search of a young man who was born around these parts. He is no ordinary boy however, for he was born with wings like that of an angel and also magic. I do not seek out this sorcerer in the hopes of capturing him and bringing him back to my land to be prosecuted. Quite the opposite in fact. I wish to make this man my consort. No harm will come to him while he is at my side in court. If anyone has any information as to his whereabouts, I would be very thankful for your help."

As Arthur looks out at the crowd that has formed around him, he notices that not one person is able to meet his eyes. They all stare at the ground as if they suddenly found it extremely fascinating. He doesn't think much of this and passes it off as an act of respect to his position and authority, so when no one comes forth after a long pause, Arthur thanks them and starts to go to individual shoppes and stalls set up to ask the people not as a sovereign, but as another person, like them.

Arthur goes to the bakers shoppe, the local blacksmith, four people running vegetable stalls, and numerous people carting their goods around the town. Like before, they are all very bad at keeping up the conversation; they all look very awkward, and speak slightly stilted, like they have to choose their words precisely. They keep shooting Merlin sidelong glances, as if asking for permission to go on, but that's ridiculous. What power does Merlin hold over them? This time Arthur does notice that something is amiss and asks Merlin,

"Why do they all stutter? Have they something to hide about this boy?"

Merlin also looks like he is uncomfortable and would rather be anywhere other than here at that moment. He seems to have zoned out and missed Arthur's question, for he snaps his head up after a moment and looks at Arthur with a confused look on his face.

"My lord?" 

Arthur scoffs at Merlin's expression and turns to head back to Hunith's hut.

Interviewing villagers seems to have taken up the full day as it is nearing supper time when the two men return. Arthur sits down on his bedroll and goes through his pack, looking for something or other, while he hears Hunith and Merlin speak in hushed tones by the firepit on the other side of the room. 

When Arthur gets back up, having forgotten about what he was rooting around for, they immediatley stop talking and Hunith gets up to pour them both a bowl of soup that has been warming over the fire in a pot. 

Arthur recieves his warm broth, thanks Hunith, then proceeds to drink the whole thing down like Gwaine does a tankard of mead. While the mother and son are still slowly eating, Arthur takes this opportunity to speak of his plans.

"It seems that Merlin, for once, was right. The rumors were apparently just that, rumors. Since we don't have any further business in Ealdor, we will be leaving tomorrow morning after breakfast. I left my court in the hands of Leon, and while I fully trust him, something always seems to happen while I am away, and I feel that I should get back to Camelot as soon as I can," hearing no protests to his plans, Arthur says his goodnight and settles back into his warm bedroll. 

He is lulled to sleep by the whispers between Merlin and Hunith.


	8. Early Mornings

It was early morning when Arthur awoke. He was hot, and it seemed like his clothes were too tight. Head spinning, he stood and balanced dangerously on his sore feet and headed outside quietly to get some air.

After a while watching the sun rise, he decided to start packing for the day ahead. He was thinking about traveling to the next closest village, Bæromyll, in hope of gaining some answers he didn't find in Ealdor, and was planning on telling Merlin that once they had started off on their horses.

As he walked into the house, he spotted Merlin still laying down on his scratchy bedroll, eyes drowsy and unfocused, hair ruffled and lips dry, it was obvious that the raven-haired boy had just woken up.

Arthur's throat suddenly felt dry and constricted and he made an awkward attempt at coughing. Merlin met his eyes, and caused Arthur's cheeks to turn a dark shade of pink; showing of his embarrassment. Merlin pulled his arms up and rested them behind his neck, stretching, eyes alight with mischief, the corner of that pink mouth quirked upwards in a taunt.

He was such a _tease_.

By the time Arthur was ready and waiting to leave, Merlin was still eating his breakfast and lazily chatting with his mum. Impatient as always, Arthur decided to step outside in an attempt to hurry Merlin along, so they could get on with the journey.

It was going to be a long day of travelling and at this rate, they'd hardly make it to Bæromyll by sunset.


	9. Babbling Villagers

Arthur had decided to walk out to the entrance of the village to wait for Merlin, and he led his horse as he walked through the mud paved roads. 

Most of the villagers who saw him either bowed to him, which he said was not necessary, or the more nervous ones hurried past him, trying not to make eye contact. Arthur passed it off as the townspeople not knowing exactly how to react when a monarch came to visit them, seeing as how rarely it happened. 

Arthur stopped by the bakery's hut, got out a gold coin, and gave it to her for a few loaves of bread (that left plenty of change left over, which he insisted she keep.)   
As he walks further to the edge of town, Arthur sees a man stroll into the village entrance, a rucksack on his back, with herbs sticking out of it. He doesn't remember the man from the (unfruitful) talks he had with all the villagers, but maybe he just wasn't paying enough attention. 

He looks to be around 35 or so, about 10 years older than Merlin and 6 older than the king. 

The man noticed Arthur and looked surprised to see the king in their town. He walked up to Arthur, bowed, and introduced himself as Julian. He asked politely what the King was doing "in a quaint little village like Ealdor?" 

"I do not think it is quaint. I think it is a very interesting town with a loving and loyal community," Arthur responded, just as he bad been taught to. "I was just following some silly rumours and they led me here. Stories of a baby boy born with angelic wings and magic have been talked about throughout court in hushed whispers since I was old enough to remember them. I asked around the village, but nobody knew anything,"

Arthur said, looking down at his boots in defeat. "We will travel to Bæromyll in just a few minutes. As soon as my incompetent manservant gets ready."

"You say nobody remembered anything that sounded the least bit similar?"

"Yes."

"How very strange. I am almost positive that you speak of Hunith's son."

Arthur stared, gaping, at the man before giggles worked their way out of his throat. Well. Arthur wouldn't call them giggles. More like... Manly, princely titters. "You mean Merlin, my manservant?"

"Yes! Merlin. Nice fellow. He was fun to go traipsing around the forest with. I haven't seen him in... Must be 11 years. Not since the accident."

"W-What accident?" 

"Well, one day Awyn was walking with him to the bakers when all of a sudden raiders galloped in from the south entrance where the fields are. This was about the third time they had come to take our supplies in 2 months, and everyone was sick and tired of the thugs. But no one would dare stand up to them. This time, one of the men started making.... Unwelcome advances on Hunith. Merlin walked up to the bloke and told him to get away from his mother. The raider, Hengard I believe, just laughed at grabbed Merlin's mother by the waist. Merlin was fuming; his eyes turned gold and the chap was pulled off of Hunith and slammed into the ground. I was working in the blacksmiths during the attack, so I could see exactly what was going on." At this point the boy points to a small hut across from Merlin's cottage. "The man was... Stunned. He got up after a few seconds and charged at Merlin but... Merlin just balled up his hands into fists. The man went flying and he hit a small stall of cabbage and carrots. Merlin walked up to where the man was laying in the vegetables and his voice. It was so... Menacing. It was impressive really. He said, well growled really, 'I told you to get your hands away from my mother.' Merlin flicked his wrist and I could hear a snap when the mans neck cracked. Merlin turned to where the other raiders were, lifted a hand threateningly, tilted his head, and they were riding off in a split second."

Arthur had suspected as much. Well. Not the wings. He would never believe that without proof. He shouldn't get his hopes up. But the magic. Arthur had realised this a few years after Merlin started working for him. 

Branches don't just randomly fall on bandits at the most opportune of times. 

Opponents' swords just don't get stuck in the ground when they are starting to get the upper hand. They don't randomly fly out of people's grasp when they're gearing up for the killing blow. 

When Merlin was supposedly in the tavern Arthur was on a wild goose chase for that bumbling old man. And when the sorcerer got away all they found was a croaky Merlin. 

And of course, the old man again who defeated the Saxons, killed Morgana and Mordred and was able to command a dragon even though the last Dragon Lord had died 7 years ago. Why would that old man use every ounce of his magic to help save Arthur and Camelot when all he did was sentence him to the flames 6 years earlier?

And his eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes that only Merlin had, had stared him right in the face while the sorcerer had called him a toad.

Arthur had known for quite some time, yes, but he understood why Merlin would want to keep something like this a secret. Did this mean that he wasn't hurt? Or course not. The betrayal struck a nerve somewhere deep inside Arthur, but he still loved Merlin. Would have married him, even, if he had somehow been a benefit to the kingdom other than getting Arthur out of bed and dressed every day. 

"But that's not what everyone was looking at, the dead man. No. Everyone was staring at the huge white wings that had sprouted from Merlin's back. It was certainly a vision that you could only have dreamt of, but there it was nonetheless. The elders of the village wanted to exile him immediately, but the more rational townsmen saw this not as a curse but as a benefit. Merlin could protect them from raiders now with hardly a second thought. This appeased the elders, and every time bandits would storm the village Merlin would come out from his hut, which he rarely did now because everyone was too timid around him, afraid he would blow up and start setting fire to things and the like, and went and took care of the raiders. For a while after every time people would bring him and Hunith baked goods thanking him for helping save the village again, but once the gratefulness wore off, people went back to being scared if the winged boy. After about 3 years of Merlin hardly ever leaving his home, and killing about 2 dozen different groups of bandits, people started to get the message, 'Don't mess with Ealdor they've got that magic freak.' Raiders stopped coming and expecting to have a subservient village who would give up their crops without a second thought. We didn't need Merlin anymore, so the elders thanked him by giving him supplies for a three day journey. Where he went, they didn't care, as ling as he left the village. It seems he traveled to Camelot." 

"I've traveled here before, about 9 years back Merlin and I came and we fought against a bandit named Kanen. You said bandits stopped coming."

"Well, I guess somehow word got out that he wasn't living in the village anymore so people saw it fit to start raiding it again. I presume I wasn't here when you helped save our village. For 3 years I was studying under an old woman learning healing and herbs and such. The town healer had died and no one was adept enough to take his place so I went to study under her and I came back about 5 years ago." The man looked at something or someone behind Arthur and smiled warmly.

Arthur was still caught up on the fact that Merlin was the boy he'd dreamed about since he was 17. He blushed thinking about the nights he would wake up to sticky sheets and breeches. "So. Merlin. My bumbling, idiotic manservant Merlin. Is the most powerful sorcerer to ever live, is that what you're telling me?" 

The mans eyes shined with mirth and he said "Ask him yourself." And walked off. Arthur turned to ask him more but saw Merlin standing behind him. 

His gaze was downcast in a somber way and his posture screamed failure. He lifted his head and Arthur's eyes met his. He strode over to the boy. Arthur grasped Merlin's face between his hands, his thumbs stroking small circles over his cheekbones. Arthur was elated. Of course he'd imagined, but never let himself hope. It was too far-fetched. But now it seems his imagination had a way of being right about some things. "Do you know how long I've looked for you? Only to find you were behind me the whole time. I-I knew that if I were to find the man I was searching for the all I hopes of you and I.. Of us, would never be. But I don't need to grey because I've found you and I will never let you go. If you will have me of course." Arthur rushed to add. 

Merlin brought his hands up and rested them on Arthur's forearms, the heat emanating from them making Arthur fight back the growl trying to rumble past his lips. "You... You're not mad? You know what this means don't you Arthur? I'm a sorcerer. Everything you have ever fought with your father embodied into a person. I am magic Arthur, I don't just have it. It is me." 

"You stupid, stupid man," Arthur said fondly. "I've known you had magic since my father hired the Witchfinder." He feels Merlin tense underneath him and tries to calm him by running his fingers down his neck, and cradling his shoulders. "I've been able to feel it. I was born of the same magic that you are, or don't you remember?" Arthur said playfully. 

"Of course I'll have you Arthur. I just... Worry that you don't fully understand what you would getting yourself into. I'm already a handful just as your manservant, I can't imagine what I would be as your bed-warmer." 

Rage courses through Arthur and his grip on Merlin's shoulders tighten. "Is that all you think you'll be? My bloody bed-warmer? I told you before. Whomever I found was to be my consort and equal. You are no different. Well, except that you already treat me as if you were my equal," Arthur says chuckling. 

Merlin leans into Arthur and rests his head on his shoulder. "I- Arthur I've never...let myself. Be..with someone. Before," Merlin stammers out. Arthur wraps his arms around the boy and comforts him. "You don't have to love. I understand. I was afraid the first time too. It's. It's brilliant though. And I don't want you to miss out on something so spectacular just because of a little fear. I wish I had had someone there, guiding me through what went where my first time. I'll be that for you, of you'll let me. We don't have to though. I don't just love you for your body." Merlin gasps at how blasé Arthur is in saying that he loves Merlin, but it makes a warm tingling sensations crawl from his abdomen outwards. 

He realises that he loves Arthur. He had never let himself think too far into it before because Arthur had been the completely unobtainable son of Uther. But now Arthur is his own man. The Once and Future King. And he is the half that which makes him whole and it is the same for him. Without Arthur he would have no purpose. He was put on this earth to serve Arthur and protect him. Why can't he love him along the way? 

"Yes Arthur. Of course," Merlin says, nuzzling into his warm neck. He feels Arthur's chin tuck over his head and suddenly realises that they are embracing in the middle of the village, with people bustling around them. He jerks back, expecting to be criticised by someone. Anyone. But no one seems to care much, as aloof as if it happens in a regular basis. 

Arthur seems to understand Merlin's concern. He grabs Merlin's hand, interlocks their fingers and drags the squawking boy to where they have their horses tied up. He helps Merlin onto his horse and gets on his own, leading them to the entrance leading south. "If we ride fast enough we can make it back to Camelot in 12 hours, if we water the horses every three hours." Arthur clicks his tongue and draws his legs back a bit, signaling for the horse to start trotting, slowly working up a fast pace.

Merlin is right behind him, like always. 


	10. Crying Kings

They're in Arthur's chambers. Arthur tells a servant that he won't be needing anyone tending to him and that he doesn't want visits from any Knights or Gaius congratulating him. He tells her to report to Leon that he will be back at court in two days, and until then Leon would listen to all the audiences.

Once the servant has bowed and walked a little ways down the corridor, Arthur closes his chamber door and locks it. He turns around to see Merlin where he left him, sitting on the edge of his new bed.

After Uther died in bed, Arthur had ordered a new four poster frame and mattress to be delivered to the King's chambers.

Merlin's head is bowed and he is fidgeting nervously with his hands. Arthur confidently strides over to the bed and puts his hand over Merlin's, stopping his fiddling. "Do not worry Merlin. You have nothing to fear," Arthur says, stroking his thumb over Merlin's hand affectionately.

"Says the person who has actual experience. This is my first time, Arthur, you can't tell me to not be nervous and expect that to solve everything. Don't tell me that you- mmph." Arthur silences Merlin with a kiss. It's a chaste one, just a simple press of lips against lips. It seems to get the job done though, because when Arthur pulls away, Merlin isn't continuing his rambling. Just staring at Arthur, his lips slightly parted.

It's such a beautiful sight, and Arthur is helpless against a strong surge of affection and lust. Arthur leans forward again, Merlin expecting the kiss and meeting him halfway. Their lips move in sync and Arthur raises a hand to the side of Merlin's neck, feeling the rabbit-like pulse just underneath the skin, the blood pumping, and the sinew and muscle flexing under his fingers.

It's a grounding feeling, having all of the things that make up Merlin's body, just under his hands. The thought that even though he's a sorcerer, that doesn't change the fact that he's still human like Arthur. It makes him feel a pang of guilt for all of the countless executions of sorcerers he was forced to watch as Crown Prince.

The sickness he gets in the pit of his stomach when he thinks that he could have been forced to watch Merlin's execution also, if the boy was less careful. It makes this moment, the here and now with Merlin, so much more precious. So much more special.

Merlin obviously senses something is wrong with Arthur and pulls away, their spit-slicked lips making quiet noises in the silence of Arthur's chambers. "Arthur," Merlin says, petting the king's shoulder. "What's wrong, my love?" He asks gently.

A cry wrenches its way out of Arthur's throat, and the next thing he knows he is shaking and silently sobbing into the crook of Merlin's neck, his body wracking with the force of it. Merlin is rubbing his hand up and down Arthur's back in what should be a soothing gesture but doesn't help one bit.

When Arthur calms down and is only heaving slightly, he starts to explain.

"I never. I never realised that you could have been the one on that pier or the one with your head on the chopping block. It always enraged me that my father never gave anyone he suspected of sorcery a fair trial. Even if the person never did anything to anyone they were immediately sentenced to the flames, without a moment to spare. He was so... so cruel to those people. Some were just trying to make a living doing the only thing they actually knew. Of course it's understandable for people to be punished if they had hurt someone. Magic is and always will be the upper hand in a fight, and if they use it wrongly they shouldn't go without consequences. But most of the people he killed were healers and salesmen traveling from town to town, not hurting anyone. I always knew it wasn't right, his method, but I could never actually say that. He would have me flogged for treason, no doubt. I promise you Merlin, I will do everything in my power to right the wrongs he made. I swear this to you."

Merlin might actually be more breathless than Arthur is from his speech.

Hearing Arthur say those things. Say how he knew it was unjust but was unable to do anything about it. Hearing everything from his perspective just validates every prophecy he had ever heard about Arthur. How he would be a fair and just king and that with him magic will flourish once again.

Having this confirm all of that is so... liberating. It feels like the biggest burden was lifted off his shoulders. Makes him insanely proud of his King. Of his Arthur. He knows that he has played his part. He has helped carve Arthur into the king that Albion needs.

He knows that the King who just came clean to him and promised to fix all of Uther's misdoings isn't just the King of Camelot anymore.

He is the King of Albion.


	11. Moaning Kings and Changing Wings

After sobbing his eyes out for the better part of an hour, Arthur immediately fell asleep, exhausted from everything that happened over the past few days.

Now, Arthur can tell it's morning from his internal clock. He finds himself extremely warm wrapped up in his bed linens, and something tickling his nose. Too groggy to actually look, he takes a swipe to grab whatever it is that's bothering him. His hand connects with something long and silky soft, ruffling under his fingers. He opens his eyes, and sees white, fluffy feathers right in front if his face.

He scans his eyes down the multiple rows before he actually registers that it's a wing. And not only a wing, one of Merlin's wings. He extends his hand to the base of the appendage, where the bone is thick and it melds into Merlin's skin, connecting seamlessly with Merlin's bare shoulder blade.

Arthur examines the wing that isn't underneath Merlin's side, wrapped around him in sleep, for a good five minutes, before accidentally pulling on one of the larger feathers closer to the tip of the wing. He quickly braces himself for a yowl of pain and for Merlin to wake up, angry at him, but is surprised when it elicits a long moan. Merlin squirms about in the bed for a bit, unconsciously, until settling back again in the same position.

Arthur, now intrigued, starts to tug lightly on each feather from the tip of the wing to the base, cataloging every moan, whimper and buck of Merlin's hips. Frankly, Arthur is quite surprised Merlin hasn't woken yet, so he resolves to wake him normally. He shakes Merlin's shoulder gently until he sees his eyelids flutter open, his eyes alive and swirling with blue and gold. Arthur swallows down whatever it was he was going to say, he doesn't quite remember, in favour of staring into Merlin's eyes.

After a few moments the gold in his eyes starts to dissipate as he becomes more and more awake. Arthur, his gaze still locked with Merlin's, strokes his hand down the rows of feathers and watches as Merlin's eyes widen as he realises that his wings are very much visible. He tries to retract them quickly but Arthur is quicker, both of his hands shooting up and grabbing fistfuls of feathers, making Merlin moan and arch, his eyes fluttering closed in a delightful mix of pleasure and pain.

"Don't," Arthur says, his voice coming out ragged and breathless. "Leave them be. I've wanted to see them for god knows how long."

Merlin nods timidly, his wings rippling in Arthur's grasp, accommodating to the touch. He finally relaxes and Arthur can kiss him, leaning his head in slowly so Merlin isn't taken by surprise.

It starts with a soft brush of dry lips against dry lips until Merlin sticks his tongue out to easy the way with slick spit. Arthur rolls Merlin over onto his back, straddling his hips, wings spread out against the mattress, fluttering excitedly underneath Arthur's hands. Merlin pushes his head forwards to deepen the kiss and Arthur complies fully, tilting his head and pulling in Merlin's bottom lip between his teeth, eliciting a soft mewl. Merlin's arms come up and he rests his elbows on Arthur's shoulder, roving his hands through the golden locks. They both breathe through their noses, unwilling to pull away after being apart for so long.

Eventually Arthur pulls back, stroking his hands down Merlin's chest, down his lithe stomach, to his bellybutton where the dark tufts of hair make a perfect line downwards until it's covered up by his breeches.The V of his hips like an arrow directing Arthur to his (very obviously interested) prize.

He curls his fingers over the waistband of Merlin's brown trousers and pulls them down slowly, maintaining welcome eye contact. Merlin's hard cock slaps up against his lower belly once it's freed from the confines of harsh linen cloth, and Arthur finally tears his eyes away from Merlin's to look at what equipment he'll be working with. His eyes widen slightly at the sight and flicker up to Merlin's face, where he's watching Arthur intently and smiling sheepishly.

"You've got the most magnificent cock I've ever seen. And I've bathed in creeks with my fair share of knights." Arthur says, a bit breathless, staring at Merlin's manhood with stars in his eyes.

"No need to sweet talk me Arthur, you've already got me in your bed," Merlin says, the cheeky shit. Arthur huffs out a laughs and turns his attention once more to the still-growing length in front of his face. He leans his head down and flicks his tongue out, catching a few clear drops of precome slowly sliding from the leaking slit down the shaft. Merlin's thighs twitch minutely under Arthur's ministrations, and his breathing picks up a bit.

"Have you ever been touched before? Like I'm doing to you now? Have you ever been intimate with another?" Arthur asks, slowly stroking his hand up and down Merlin's cock absentmindedly.

"N-no. How could I have when every time I wank my wings pop out and my magic flares up? It's like they've got a mind of their own that's trying to prevent me from ever having sex."

"Did I mention how beautiful your wings were?" Arthur says, charmingly. Merlin blushes and lowers his eyes but his wings flutter and flare out, betraying his appreciation for the compliment. Arthur took the tip of his finger of his free hand and used it to tilt Merlin's chin upwards, forcing eye contact. "Look at me, Merlin. You are beautiful. How someone hasn't managed to snatch you up is completely beyond me. But I am certainly not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. It means you're all mine, untainted, untarnished, unspoilt by sins of the flesh." He took his hand off Merlin's cock and hefted himself up a bit, lifting his face to Merlin's and pressing their lips together gently.

Merlin was a surprisingly fast learner and he caught on to how he should angle his head, what he should do with his tongue, where he should put his hands. Soon, after a bit of practice, Merlin was pressing his body against Arthur's and sliding his hand down to grasp Arthur's bum, pulling a shocked gasp out of him.

"Mer-ha-Merlin. What are you doing?" Arthur gasped. Merlin flipped them both over so that Arthur was now on his back.

Merlin stuck his hand out towards the bedside cabinet, his eyes flaring gold. The doors popped open and a small dark green bottle floating through the air into Merlin's grasp.

"Isn't it obvious, Arthur? I'm going to fuck you. That is what you wanted, right?" He said as if he were having to explain something to someone for the nth time, and he didn't just blatantly use his magic as if it were nothing. He uncorked a little portioned jar of the Byzantine olive oil that they had bought from maritime traders a few months ago, pouring a bit on his fingers. He motioned for Arthur to spread his legs and pushed the cork back into the bottle, putting it off to the side on the bed.

As Arthur complied, Merlin scooted down the bed until he was face-to-face (well, more like face-to-head) with Arthur's leaking cock, settled in between the most beautifully muscled thighs Merlin had ever seen. He stroked his three slick fingers from down the base of Arthur's dick, and over his balls. He traced the seam, stopping for a second to press on his perineum a little, knowing how good it can feel, pressing on the prostate from the outside, smirking at the bitten-off whimper that Arthur would deny making to the grave. He slipped his fingers further down, sliding the pads over the furled muscle of Arthur's hole, his fingers pressing against it lightly. He repositioned his arm so that his hand was facing palm up.

He reached over, grabbing and uncorking the bottle again, pouring a little more oil on his fingers, then floating the bottle out of his way but still within grabbing distance. He pressed one finger against Arthur's hole and felt it flutter and relax as he stroked up and down Arthur's thigh with his left hand. He slowly pushed it in, feeling the tight, hot suction grasp at his finger. He pulled it out just as slowly, before pressing it back in again. He did this over and over for about a minute, his extreme patience when it came to Arthur really paying off at this point. When it came time to add another digit, he poured a bit more oil onto his fingers and directly above Arthur's hole, watching the drops roll down to where his finger was inside of Arthur. He pushed the second finger in and repeated this for a minute or two before curling his fingers up, his fingertips brushing against a little almond shaped nub, causing Arthur's shoulders to jolt and his hand to come down and weave itself into Merlin's hair. "Gods, Merlin. Do that again."

"Do what again, sire?" Merlin asked, feigning innocence. "This?" He said as he pressed up against the small bundle of copious nerve-endings.

"Y-Yes. That," Arthur stuttered, his hips rising up off the bed accommodatingly. "Do that again, Merlin, your King commands you."

"Careful, Arthur. You know I never do what you say. Usually quite the opposite in fact," he said sliding his fingers out of Arthur's relaxed and stretched entrance.

Arthur grunted, obviously displeased. "Are you finally going to _fuck_ me now?" He asked, emphasis on the expletive.

Merlin sat up and plopped himself into Arthur's lap, Arthur's royal erection standing proud up against his stomach. Merlin leant forward and took Arthur's mouth in a searing kiss, his hands cupping Arthur's face. Arthur lifted his own hands and threaded them through the fluffy white feathers, licking up the moan on Merlin's lips.

Merlin scooted back again and lifted Arthur's legs so that they were splayed out on rather side of his thighs as he sat on his own haunches, Merlin pulling Arthur up so his bum rested on his thighs. He magicked a currently unused pillow from the far corner of Arthur's bed and put it under Arthur whilst he was angled up. Merlin let him rest back, his hips now elevated upwards, granting Merlin better access to where Arthur most wanted him.

He reached over and grabbed the still floating oil jar and took his own cock in hand, pouring oil over both appendages before corking it up and putting it on top of Arthur's cabinet. He slathered his cock and took a bit of oil on three fingers just to make sure Arthur was ready. After a few slick thrusts he deemed Arthur prepared enough and moved his hips forward, pressing the tip of his cock to Arthur's hole. He lifted his head and noticed Arthur was staring at him, so he leant down again and kissed him whilst he slowly, carefully sheathed himself inside Arthur.

Arthur's hands came up around his back and sank into his wings, taking Merlin by surprise. "A-Arthur. Stop doing that," Merlin says, his voice choked-off.

"Doing what?" Arthur says, obviously mocking Merlin's earlier impudence. "This?" He asks as he rakes his fingernails down over the bones closest to Merlin's spine, making his hips stutter and jerk as he is still inside Arthur. His shoulders contract backwards and his back arches as he releases a guttural cry.

Arthur cups the back of Merlin's neck keeping his face close to Arthur's, one hand still lost in rows and rows of feathers, and wraps a thigh about Merlin's hip, urging him to thrust into him. "Come _on_ , Merlin," Arthur whinges. He pulls harshly on a handful of feathers, eliciting a growl from Merlin before he snaps.

He grabs both of Arthur's wrists and pins them down onto the bed, either side of his head, Arthur's smirk only egging him on further. He pistons his hips a few times, pulling his cock out almost completely, only to slam it back in, Arthur being pushed up the mattress in increments with each thrust of his hips. Merlin's eyes flash golden for less than a meagre second and Arthur's arms are being held down by an unseen force; Merlin's magic. This is more arousing than anything Arthur has ever dreamt of or done and he feels like a young, inexperienced prince again, being shown the tricks of the trade by two of the whores at the Rising Sun, Charlotte and Alexander. He feels new again. Like clay, and Merlin is the potter, able to form Arthur all over again from scratch, only to take him apart again and repeat the process. He goes limp against his bonds, from where he was previously struggling, trying, illogically, to test Merlin's magic.

Arthur wraps his other thigh round Merlin's hip and crosses his ankles behind the small of his back. Merlin is leaning over him, his eyes nearly black if it weren't for the small ring of blue at the edges. Sweat beads at hairline and his mouth is in a permanent snarl; his teeth clenched and his upper lip curled.

He looks stunning. Gorgeous even. With his wings flared out behind him, trembling, flapping lightly every so often. Arthur feels a strange connection to Merlin's magic. The force wrapped around his wrists seems familiar, and, unless he knew better, he would say it was greeting him like they were familiar friends. And Arthur, dare he say it, feels unbound _happiness_ coursing through his veins, the magic curling up and purring inside of him like a contented feline. He feels like he can talk to it, almost. As if he could comfort it, like he would Merlin. Arthur realises that it is an extension of Merlin himself and it clicks. It's coursing Merlin's emotions and feelings through whatever bond it has and he knows what Merlin is feeling. Knows that even as he looks frustrated right now, he is truly and deeply _happy_. This makes Arthur smile, a grin splitting his face in half, making Merlin huff out a laugh, and Arthur feels another burst rushing through the bond, through his blood.

"Gods, yes Merlin. Yes. Harder. Just take me. Just pound into me and never stop. We'll never need to stop. Please, don't ever stop, Merlin," Arthur says, pushing his hips up to meet Merlin thrust for thrust.

"Oh Arthur. You've no idea how long I've wanted this. You pinned underneath me, writhing in pleasure, begging me for more." He leans down and nuzzles into the crevice of Arthur's neck, licking up at the pulse-point, tasting the salty skin there. He could hear the rhythmic slapping of flesh on flesh echo faintly in his chambers but really couldn't care less; Merlin was fucking him and that was all that mattered.

For a while, Arthur just laid there and took it. Then Merlin yanked Arthur's thighs up from around his hips and positioned them over his shoulders, leaning forward and bending him nearly in half. The shift had made it so that the was of Merlin's cock was pushing up into Arthur's prostate on every thrust, it was kind of hard not to react to the immense pleasure that gave him. He could feel his orgasm building slowly in the pit of his stomach, like an old friend, taking it's time. He can hear someone moaning like a whore right out of a brothel, and it makes his cheeks flush when he realises it’s him. He bites down on his lower lip so as to stop the loud sounds from escaping, but Merlin isn't having it. His hand shot down from where it was pressing down on Arthur's thigh to Arthur's mouth. He pressed his thumb in between those plush lips and hooked it in Arthur's cheek, his palm cradling the side of Arthur's face. He leans his body forward, bending Arthur’s knees further up, his face mere inches away from Arthur’s own. He thrusts his hips quickly, chasing his own climax, and he directs his magic to wrap invisible tendrils around the King’s leaking, angry, erection. Merlin makes Arthur catch his eyes, and smirks something feral at Arthur’s pained-but-not-really-hurting expression.

“Scream for me, darling. I want the whole castle to hear the pleasure I bring you.”

With his mouth being held open and his arms being held down, Arthur couldn’t really do much to subdue the noises he made when he started coming. Merlin watched, holding his own orgasm off, as Arthur’s eyes rolled back in his head, his eyelids fluttering madly. He could feel the vibrations bubbling up from where he palm was resting on Arthur’s neck, and soon Merlin was being swathed in animalistic grunts and pleasure-filled moans.He picked up his thrusting again whilst Arthur was still contracting around him deliciously, bringing forth his orgasm quicker than he’d hoped.

Arthur stared up at the angel above him, his head still swimming from the intense orgasm. Merlin tipped his head back, letting out pathetic whimpers as his hips pistoned into him of, what seemed to be, their own volition, chasing the pleasure. His wings fluttered back and spread out to full length, and Arthur watched as they slowly changed from pearly white, transitioning across the entire colour spectrum, before finally turning black and staying that way.

Arthur was...speechless. He thought Merlin was beautiful with white wings. Merlin looked absolutely magnificent, his wings a glossy obsidian, almost _glinting_ off the candlelight.

His admiration was cut short, though, as Merlin’s lax body fell onto his own, the sudden pressure making him release a small “oomph” which Merlin chortled at.

“Merlin. Your.. wings. They’ve changed colours.

“Mhm. Gaius said it ‘appens you love your virginity. White’s the symbol of innocence, which’s taken ‘way when you have ‘sexual intercourse,’” Merlin said sleepily, yet still finding the energy to mock the Court Physician’s medical terms. 

“Ah, well, you thoroughly wore me out. Let’s get some sleep and then we can have a proper dinner.” Arthur said, patting Merlin’s back.

“Arrrrrthurrrrrr.”

“Yes Merlin?”

“Don’t forget to put the candle out.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it Merlin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate how I ended this I just wanted to get it over with. I had been putting it off for so long because it was my first fanfic and it was my baby and I wanted to coddle it and never let it grow up.


End file.
